


Erotic Advent

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: 24 days, Advent Calendar, Anal Beads, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Cock Ring, Come on face, Condoms, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fun, Light BDSM, NSFW, Nipple Clamps, Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Silly, Vaginal Sex, Vibrators, cock sheath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:30:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 16,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: 24 days of new sex toys for Rick/reader!





	1. Day 1: Mature

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I know it's not Christmas time, but I did this anyway after an awesome prompt on tumblr. Some are short, some are long. Each day is either mature or NSFW; will indicate that in the chapter title. Enjoy!

You didn’t know Rick was religious. As a matter of fact, that seemed in direct odds with everything you knew about the man. His pride and joy was his scientific genius. He had no time for ‘faith’ and he suffered no fools who believed in a higher power. 

And yet . . .

He was strangely excited when he’d phoned you and told you he had a special something for you, just in time for the start of the Christmas season. 

So you felt a little trepidation as you waited for him to arrive.

Then he startled you even more by not arriving by portal but actually knocking on your door.

You actually didn’t know what to do for a moment, then you jumped and hurried to open the door when he rapped again harder, with more insistency. You could only imagine the scowl on his face for having to wait.

But he wasn’t scowling as you threw open the door. He was beaming, and full of nervous energy. He was also holding a huge box awkwardly out in front of him.

It always makes you nervous when Rick looks that excited.

You stand aside and let him in.

He hurries in and drops the box on the floor. It lands with a heavy sound.

“Rick . . .?” you ask hesitantly. “What’d you bring with you?”

Visions of alien fauna, vials full of disease, and illegal paraphernalia dance through your head—

“Baby-baby, you know that erotica shop? That shop? The one near the place that still rents porn?” he asks in reply, as he starts to open the flaps on the top of the box.

“Yes . . .” you hedge.

“Well, did you know they sell advent calendars with toys?”

You can barely wrap your head around the words he’s saying. They don’t seem to quite mesh in your head.

“Happy First of December, sweetheart!” he exclaims.

With a flourish, he presents you an elongated box, wrapped in shiny paper and a bow. A tag with the number one is tied to it as well.

“Open it, open it!” Rick encourages. “We’ve got twenty four toys—one for each day, baby!”

So he wasn’t religious after all, you think as you rip the paper off the box to discover not a dildo, as you expected, but a set of ben wa balls. 

You could totally get behind a month’s full of new erotic toys to try out with him.


	2. Day 2: Mature

Box number 2 was long and thin.

Rick’s eyes lit up and he wondered out loud if it was a riding crop.

It was long and thin, all right, but had feathers on the end instead of a loop of leather. 

“Nope nope nope!” you said immediately. 

“What, baby? Don’t like being tickled?” Rick teased, grabbing it out of the box and brushing you with it before you could stop him. 

“No—Rick—stop! I—“ you say, with abrupt pauses while you laugh because it was ticklish. “—I mean it! Stop it—Rick!”

Those words mean the opposite to Rick Sanchez. He torments you mercilessly with the feathers, flicking them along your jawline, on your belly, over your forehead, and between your legs, even as you try to grab the stick and demand he stop, laughing all the while. 

“Rick, stop! Stop!”

“Can’t take it, baby?”

“I’m allergic, Rick!” you cry, and suddenly you can’t laugh anymore because you sneeze and your entire head feels full of cotton.

Your eyes are starting to get puffy, but you can see there is a bit of a rash that’s starting to break out on your stomach and yes, even between your legs. In seconds, you’re miserable, stuffy, and can’t stop sneezing. 

“Oh shit—“ Rick says, when he realizes you’re not just pretending.

Instead of sex that night, he feeds you several allergy pills and rubs hydrocortisone cream all over your body. The pills knock you out, so being on his cramped cot doesn’t even make a difference to you.


	3. Day 3: NSFW

Box number 3 rattled a little when you shook it.

Inside was hot pink leopard print furry handcuffs.

Rick snorted a laugh when he saw them, and he picked them up, letting their box drop to the floor.

“You gonna let me handcuff you to the bed, baby?”

“Maybe . . .”

“Or handcuff you with both wrists behind your back?”

“Are you envisioning some cop fantasy? Am I the criminal and you’re arresting me, but then I ask for leniency or if there is a way I can make the charges disappear, officer?” You use finger quotes during the last five words of your question.

Rick continues as if he hadn’t heard you. “Or maybe—“

He grabs your left wrist and fastens one cuff around it.

“Hey!”

“—we could pretend we’re in one of those old Bugs Bunny cartoons!”

Before you can protest more or ask what, exactly, is he thinking, Rick slaps the other cuff on his right wrist.

“You know, like the ones where the two characters are shackled together and they can’t get the manacles off?”

“Yes, Rick, I know!” you exclaim. 

You’re in an awkward stance, being cuffed left wrist to right wrist. You don’t mind the ideas of handcuffs, but there has to be a better position. Once you unlatch them, you can talk Rick out of his Bugs Bunny daydream and get down to real business . . . 

You bend over to retrieve the box. Rick slaps you on the ass, making you jump and miss the box. Now to reach it, you have to kneel.

“That’s it, baby,” Rick encourages, even though he doesn’t let you lower your arm. “Why don’t you-you just do some work while you’re down there—“

You flick him the start of a glare, but do as he asks anyway: a quick lick up the underside of his cock, balls to tip, then open your mouth to take him in. He stands stock-still for a moment, letting you blow him at your own pace, but then, as always, he gets impatient and pushes his hips forward, till he hits the back of your throat. 

Most times you’re cool with that, but he’s still yanking your left arm up and it throws you off balance. 

You back off him, his groan a testament to his disapproval. His cock is shiny with a thick coating of spit, just like your lips. 

Rick focuses on you. “Come on, b-baby—don’t leave me hanging—“

“Let me get this stupid thing off, and then we’ll finish,” you counter.

He grumbles, but what other choice does he have?

You scrabble for, and finally grab, the box.

It’s empty. 

When a quick scan of the floor reveals nothing, you say, 

“Rick? Where are the keys?”

“What?” he replies, still pouting about his interrupted blowjob. 

“Where are the keys? Do you have the keys?” you ask, turning the box upside down to see if they will magically appear and fall to the mattress. No luck.

“What? No, I don’t have the keys. What’re talking about?”

“There aren’t any keys,” you say through gritted teeth. “You forced these handcuffs on us and there aren’t any keys to get them off!”

He looks perplexed for a moment, then shrugs. “They probably fell to the-the floor.” Without warning, he drops to his knees too to scan the floor. “You probably j-just didn’t see them.”

“I didn’t man look!” you reply sharply. “There are no keys here!”

He looks. You continue to look. He shoves his right arm under his cot—you yelp and remind him _you’re attached at the wrist_ —to run his and your hand there in case the keys bounced under it. You both extend the search further and further out from your immediate vicinity, but finally, dreadfully, the conclusion is made that there are no keys to unlock the handcuffs. 

“Goddamn it Rick!” 

He doesn’t look as upset as you think he should be. He looks fairly amused, as a matter of fact. 

“Shh, shh, baby, you’re getting yourself all-all worked up—“

“Don’t you patronize me!”

He doesn’t even try to hide his laughter. 

“Easy now, sugar,” he tries to soothe, even as he continues laughing. “You know I can take care of this-this is a piece of cake, right? These are just shitty novelty handcuffs and—and!—cutting through them is going to be a b-b-breeze.”

You take a couple deep breaths to calm yourself down. Rick’s right. This is a stupid situation, but not life-threatening or something you’re going to have to deal with for an extended period of time—

“Of course, I think may-maybe you’re going to owe me a favor . . .”

You roll your eyes at him. “Owe you a favor?! You’re the one who got us into this situation, and I’m the one owing favors?”

He shrugs. “I’m cool like this for however long you want it to last.”

Unfortunately, you know he’s telling the truth. You sigh, tamp down your anger again, and ask, 

“So what’s this favor, Rick?”

“Oh, baby, you say it like you’re not going to like it!”

“Am I?” you ask sarcastically.

“Yes,” he answers sincerely. “I mean, I’m pretty sure you like my cock in your pussy. I could be wrong . . . maybe you’ve been faking it all this time?”

He eyes you critically, like he’s actually trying to determine if you’ve been lying and faking your orgasms. You elbow him.

“I have not!”

“So you do like my cock in your pussy. Fucking you, making you cry out, making you beg, making you come . . . you like it when I just ease myself into you and then just wait. Wait for the sensations to build, and you start rocking against me, just for more friction—

Despite his obvious asshole-ness, Rick could also turn on a dirty charm. His voice tended to drop to an indecent level, and the lewd suggestions he made were that much filthier when he really put his mind to it. You felt a flush rise and couldn’t help take a few quicker, shallow breaths. You also couldn’t help licking your lips or glancing down at his cock, which had regained its erection.

“—you like to be teased like that, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted, drawing out the sibilant.

He gave you a half grin. “I know you do. But that’s not what I want. I want it hard and fast right here on the floor beside my cot—“

There was no further talk or anything resembling foreplay. You acquiesced to what he wanted: on your knees, propped up by your chest on the hard frame of his cot, which he only let you do because you weren’t about to let him shove you face first into the ratty carpet of his bedroom. He held both arms behind your back, one cuffed, the other for symmetry, and he fucked you just like he said: hard and fast, his narrow hips slamming his cock into you at a furious pace. 

It was borderline painful and all sweet, filling your pussy, hitting your g-spot, then pulling out again in delicious torment. From his position on his knees between your legs, Rick leaned heavily on your back too, growling curse words and dirty praise into your ear. 

You gasped and cried out, just like he’d said, and urged him on.

He came before you did, but that was okay. It was good anyway, and he was usually good about making it up to you.

When Rick was finally able to extract himself, you were wet down the insides of your thighs. He planted a kiss on your shoulder blade and stood up shakily. You had to follow since you were still attached wrist-to-wrist with him. 

Rick blinked blearily at the handcuffs. “Oh yeah,” he said, “this.”

You rolled your eyes again and took the higher ground of not pointing out you’d been twisted into a weird position because of his little joke.

“Well, come on. I’ll have this off-off lickety-split.”

He started for the door. You put on the brakes. 

“Wait—what?! No, I’m not going out there! You said you could get these off us!”

“Y-y-yes,” he agreed, impatiently. “I have the tools out in the garage. Let’s go.”

“No, do it here! You have all this stuff here!”

“I don’t have bolt cutters in my bedroom, baby. That’s just weird.”

“Rick, I am not walking through your family’s house completely naked, handcuffed to you—“

“And looking and smelling completely, thoroughly fucked!” he interrupted to finish your sentence, giving you a wild grin.

You resist the urge to literally snarl at him. Barely.

As entertaining as he seems to think this is again, Rick at least allows you to wrap a blanket a little like a toga around your body. He could care less about his state of undress, and together you traipse through his daughter’s house to the garage to get out of this moronic situation.


	4. Day 4: Mature

“Oh. A d-dildo. How original,” Rick says as you open box number 4.

You take it out and heft it. “They can’t all be winners.”

“A waste of money, that.”

He tries to wrangle it out of your hand, with the intent of tossing it in the trashcan.

“Hey!” you exclaim, keeping a tight grip on the fake silicone dick. “Don’t throw it away! You’re not always around, and yes, this’ll be a poor substitute, but at least it’s something!”

Rick scoffs but lets you keep it.


	5. Day 5: Mature

This box—written on the tag was number 5—was a little heavy and whatever was inside shifted unsteadily when you rocked it.

Tearing off the paper you found a plain cardboard box, and inside, not cushioned by anything like Styrofoam peanuts or shredded paper are an assortment of boxes for trial-sized bottles.

Rick dug around in the box while you were still holding it and pulled one out at random.

He broke out into laughter so hard it made him snort. 

“Vaginal tightening gel!” he guffawed. “Tight as a virgin! Holy shit—did they select this just for you?”

Refusing to give him the reaction he wanted—namely, seething outrage at your purported “loose vag”—you pick another tube out of the box and hold it up. In the most deadpan voice you can manage you read,

“Desensitizing gel for men. So your whole “premature ejaculation” tendency won’t be a problem. All you have to do is rub this benzocaine on your junk. And—“

Rick’s amusement waned, and he started to protest, but you overrode him by showing him another selection from the box.

“—and something for the men called “plump”! Ooo, increases thickness and size for intense pleasure—“

Now you’re laughing and Rick tried to wrestle the tubes away from you. Even though his room is small you play keep away for a bit, which ends with you being thrown onto his cot, straddled, held in place by his boney knees. He forces you to listen to the praise written on the box of the vaginal tighten gel. You read to him the ingredients and claims made of the desensitization and male enhancing gel.

Both of you are in hysterics now. The unanimous decision is made to throw them away, but the samples of different lubes—flavored, safe for silicone toys, warming—are kept for later use.


	6. Day 6: Mature

Box number 6 is very small.

You open it to find a small assortment of condoms. Rick grimaces, muttering something about rubbers killing the sensation for him and you’re both clean and you said you’re on birth control so—

You hold one up. 

“Ribbed for her pleasure,” you read off the packaging. You look him dead in the eye and say, “Ribbed condoms don’t even taste like ribs.”

Rick breaks out into such hard laughter you don’t even get to show him one of the other novelty condoms was designed to make his dick look like a pickle.


	7. Day 7: NSFW

The next box, numbered 7, was square. It contained a twin bullet vibrator, and to Rick’s delight, it also had batteries so he didn’t have to scrounge for some anywhere in his room. You know he would have probably just walked into the living room and stolen them from the remote for the TV, no matter who was watching what, so you’re delighted too.

“So . . .” you say, holding the two ovoid vibrators in one hand. Rick turns it on, and they rattle against each other, tethered by their individual power cords. “. . . is one supposed to go on my clit and the other in me?”

“One can definitely go on your clit, baby,” he agrees, pushing your shoulder.

You comply with his unspoken request and lay back. He goes between your legs and automatically you reach down and give his erection a pull. He grins at you and settles a little closer. You line him up to exactly where you want him to be and he pushes into you.

You moan softly at the initial thrust. 

When he’s seated deeply, he repeats,

“One can go on your clit . . .”

He slips the vibrator between the two of you. Its vibrations send immediate pleasure coursing through you. That, plus his cock, are heavenly. Rick rocks very slowly. When the vibrator threatens to fall away from you, he holds it in place with his hand. 

“So-so what . . . is the ot-ther one for?” you manage to ask, barely able to concentrate on forming words with the bliss emanating from your groin. “I, I mean . . . it’s kind of . . . kind of useless, isn’t it? Unless, unless I’m by my . . . myself?”

Rick snorts at your naiveté. You can’t care, feeling yourself at the very edge of orgasm.

You do care, however, that he backs away from you, pulls out, and picks the vibrator off of you.

“Rick! I was so close!”

“I know, ba-baby. But you’re so selfish, thinking this is all-all f-for you.”

You want to continue whining, but don’t, because Rick finds the bottle of lube he keeps stashed in the box under his bed. The ache in your gut of a denied climax is still there, but you watch with fascination as he globs a large amount of the lube into his hand and coats one of the vibrators in it. He also holds the small device tightly in his hand, and you realize he’s warming it up because it’s cold.

You can only imagine what he may be thinking, and it makes you a little anxious. 

“Rick, I, uh . . . well—“

He interrupts you with a look. “You’ve told me lots of times-so many times how you _think_ you feel about anal sex, baby. This thing is so fucking small, but I’m not-not going to shove it up your ass.”

You can’t help but sigh in relief.

“I’m put-putting it up mine,” he concludes, and does just that.

Before you can say or do anything after that little announcement and show, Rick slams his hips forward again, filling you in one lunge. He shoves the other vibrator between your pussy lips and with his other hand flips the button on the control to ‘on’.

That orgasm you were chasing comes back like a boomerang. Rick fucks you in little thrusts, never withdrawing much, less than an inch each time. He pants and groans and can’t seem to even hold himself up; whatever that little vibrator is doing to him is something good, you can tell, even as you throw your head back and allow yourself to be drowned in the pleasure. 

He comes too, with a sound that almost rivaled yours, and has to fumble for the control several seconds before he’s able to turn it off again. 

You let him take the time he needs, laying heavily on top of you, petting his hair.


	8. Day 8: Mature

You’d already opened handcuffs. It didn’t surprise you much that box number 8 revealed a ball gag.

You looked at it, then at Rick. Rick looked from it, to you. 

“onetwothree not it!” you exclaimed quickly. 

“That’s so childish!”

“Uh-huh. This toy’s for you, mister.”

“Why me? Because-because you think you won a stupid game I wasn’t even p-playing?” he demanded, even as he picked it up to examine it. 

“It’s yours because you talk a lot during sex. Might be nice to have some peace and quiet.”

Rick looked good in it, the black leather stark against his skin and silver-blue hair. The ball fit so nicely between his teeth. And the drool! You hadn’t known it would be that much worse, but it was shiny and slick all down his chin and dripping onto his chest.

And he could make noise; you did your damnedest to wring sounds out of him. But it wasn’t the same as him praising, demanding, or cursing while you fucked, so unfortunately, you didn’t think the ball gag was going to have much rotation in the bedroom.


	9. Day 9: Mature

Box number 9 is surprisingly heavy for its size.

Inside, you find a tub of chocolate sauce, “for sweet playtimes” is printed on the label.

“I’d rather lick vodka off your body,” Rick announces. “That stuff’ll give you diabetes.”

“No, let’s try it!” you insist.

He relents, but it’s not as romantic or fun as the _idea_ of it.

“There’s no pour spout on this bottle!” which meant huge globs of it went everywhere.

“It’s getting everywhere!” which meant it stained his sheets. And blanket. And pillow. And the wall.

“It tastes like that cheap, waxy chocolate you get around Easter time, only it’s melted!” which was surprisingly accurate and gross.

“Every inch of me is sticky!” which sounded more erotic than it was.

Eventually you both gave up. You were smeared with the chocolate and some of it was drying in a flakiness that made you look diseased. It was hard to get the taste out of your mouth, and only a good scrubbing was going to get it out of hair; you kept your pubic hair trimmed but didn’t envy Rick in the least.

Washing up together in the small shower stall was the sexiest part about the whole experience.


	10. Day 10: Mature

Box number 10 is another long and slender one. 

“Is it a riding crop this time?”

You give Rick a searching look. “You’re really set on a riding crop. Do we need to invest in one?”

“N-n-no,” he chuckles, unconvincingly. “It’s just a joke . . .”

You’re not so sure and file the information away for later. You tear the paper off the thin package and find—

“What the hell is this thing?”

Picking it up and showing it to him doesn’t make it any more obvious its purpose. It’s got a long, telescoping handle that ends in a head containing rotating pinwheels. The little protrusions on each wheel are not sharp enough to penetrate the skin with normal pressure, but you can see that with a little bit of intent, they could leave tiny pinpricks.

“Hmm . . .” Rick says, taking it from your hands. You can see the wheels in his head turning. “Lay down, baby.”

With only slight misgivings, you comply. He sits beside you on the mattress, tells you to keep your hands to your sides, and slowly starts rolling the device over you. For several seconds, it’s ticklish, but when you finally relax, it feels good and it stimulates your nerve endings in a very subtle way.

Rick runs it over your arms, collar bones, stomach and thighs. When you stop squirming and he sees you’re relaxed, he passes it over you right nipple, then your left. You gasp at the immediate pleasure that it causes. He grins, and does it again. 

Without him asking, you part your legs. He uses approximately the same amount of pressure with it on your labia, but when he uses his other hand to open you up, he’s extremely gentle rolling the wheels over your clit.

You cry out and he repeats it, but the pleasure—even with that minute amount of pressure—is too much and you have to bat it away.

He’s not dissuaded though. Seeing how wet your pussy is and knowing you’re primed by the sensations, Rick drops the device, slips between your legs, and fucks you.


	11. Day 11: NSFW

Tag number 11 was attached to a box with the shape of a shirt box, but slightly smaller. Whatever was inside shifted as a mass.

The paper is quickly discarded, and you open the hinged cardboard lid to find:

A pair of red panties?

No, that’s not quite right. They’re shaped like panties, with a low rise on the waist and high cut hips but full coverage in the back, but on the front, low but not quite fully between your legs, is a reinforced, open hole. Also in the box is a velvety smooth, not-detailed dildo, approximately six inches long.

You hold both products up to show Rick. 

A small smile dances around the corners of his mouth as he reaches for the dildo.

“Try those on, b-baby,” he says, with a nod toward the underwear. “They should be your size. I had to indicate it when I-when I ordered this advent calendar thing.”

“You knew a strap on was going to be included?”

He shrugged. “Had to give them my size too. Who knows what they wanted it for?”

At his insistence, you step into the panties. They actually fit well, nicely snug over your ass and with a wide-enough elastic at the top to be comfortable. Self-consciously, you run a finger around the hole in the fly.

“If it didn’t come with that—“ you say, with a lift of your chin to indicate the fake penis in his hands, “—I would have thought these were just poorly designed crotchless panties.”

“Nah. What you’re wearing and this,” he replies, waving the dildo a little, “is high end stuff. Look here.”

Rick spins the dildo around between his fingers and shows you the non-business end. 

“See, baby? This is contoured a little so it slips between your labia a bit and puts some pressure on your clit. So while you’re fucking me, you’re stimulated too. Sound good?”

You look him straight in the eye. 

“You really want me to fuck you with this thing?”

“You think I’m not man enough to take it?” he jokes back, but you can read between the lines that he is actually interested in it.

You bite your lip and agree to the request, but make a point to say, 

“But if I do it wrong, you have to tell me!”

Rick grins. “Have I ever not told you that?”

You pinch his scrawny chest in response. 

He finds a towel to lay over his bed. With lots of lube—thank god Rick always seems to have multiple bottles of the stuff squirreled away—and both his participation and verbal instructions, you prep him for this. Just the preparation makes him squirm. 

The first wiggle was because you accidently squirted a huge amount of ice cold lube all over his balls— _“jesus!”_ he’d practically shouted, which you thought was a little overdramatic—but once everything warmed up he writhed in anticipation. He was the scientific one, but it was fascinating to watch him start to fray around the edges as he worked himself open. 

When he felt loose enough, he sat up and helped you position the dildo. He doesn’t make you strip out of the panties completely; he only shoves them down to mid-thigh, so you’re hobbled by them. You expect him to just work the dildo in place impatiently, but instead the grabs your hips and pulls you forward. Off balance, you stumble and grab for his shoulders to stay upright. 

Rick leers up at you and buries his face as best he can in your pussy. It’s awkward, since you can’t actually open your legs, but he shoves his chin between your soft inner thighs and licks. Only a small bit of his tongue wriggles its way to your clit, and you giggle. You pet his hair.

He runs out of breath and pulls away again, not bothering to wipe his mouth. Now he takes the time to maneuver the dildo into place, threading it through the hole in the front of the underwear, and making sure it’s securely in place. He assists readjusting your panties so they’re comfortable again; he tells you to open your legs a little and uses his hand down the front of them to situate the base of the dildo between your folds.

It stretches them, just a little, and nestles against your clit. The sensation is good, and you let out a little hiss of a moan.

Rick shoots you another leer and drags you down on top of him. 

He finds your mouth and kisses you deeply. You taste stale vodka and yourself on his tongue. The artificial cock jutting out from between your legs is stroked, and it sends shivers of pleasure through you as it rubs your most sensitive area. 

You pull back and watch as Rick globs a copious amount of lubrication over the dildo. His fingers are deft and quick, and you wonder how often he’s done this before. You also wonder how much he misses it, since he’s been so eager, but you don’t voice either question.

Finally, he seems satisfied with the preparation. He lowers his shoulders to the bed again, lifts his knees, and urges you to come forward. 

You’ve knelt between his legs before, in dry parodies of sex, but never like this: with him spread open and waiting, with a facsimile of a cock of your own ready for action. You keep one hand on it and use the other to scratch thin lines with your fingernails down his chest. Pale red marks erupt on his skin. Rick can’t seem to stop smiling, or panting in anticipation.

“Come-come on, b-baby,” he implores, with a touch of desperation in his voice.

You lick your lips, but your tongue is too dry to do any good. 

Holding the base of the dildo, you steady it against the puckered muscle of his ass.

“I don’t want to hurt you!” you fret suddenly.

“You won’t,” Rick reassures you. “Go slow at first, just at first, then—“

He talks you through the initial step. He stutters more as the head of the dildo actually breaches him, and his head drops back as he moans loudly. You stop immediately.

His eyes snap open.

“No-no-no, keep-keep going, keep, please, ba-baby, please—“

So you continue, slowly, slowly, inch by inch, thinking each little bit is going to be too much, that soon he’s going to cry out with more pain than pleasure and he’s going to kick you because his feet are right by your chest and face and sure, you get fucked by him all the time and his dick is bigger than this stupid dildo but that’s in your pussy and that’s what vaginas are for and this is not what rectums are for and plus this is a dildo so how are you supposed to know if it feels right what if you’re hurting him and and and and

_“Oh fuck, baby,”_ Rick mutters, his voice so deep it’s more a vibration than actual words.

You’re fully seated inside him now. His balls rest against the mound of your pussy. You feel him clench around the dildo, that muscle movement telegraphing through the silicone to tickle your clit. 

You moan, a little, too.

“Are you okay? Is this okay?” you ask.

Rick rasps back, “B-baby, it’s _divine.”_

You have to believe him; his expression is slack and amazed, all at the same time. His knuckles are white with the force he’s using to hold his knees up. It’s from pleasure, not pain.

“I’m going to move now,” you tell him. The end of your sentence lilts upward, like a question. More firmly you say, “I’m going to start slow—“

“Yes-yes please—“ he interrupts.

His eagerness doesn’t incite you to just slam into him. You pull out a little, then push back in, exploring the feeling of penetrating versus being penetrated, and how small hip movements tickle your clit, while longer ones pressed deep inside him provide a steady weight and sensation to you. It’s different, but it feels good.

Rick lets you toy around a bit, even though you can see his legs get shaky. He always moans lowly when you’re deep inside him, and gasps a little when you back away. You can tell he’s getting either more desperate or more impatient—or both—with your slow going. 

You decide you can help with that. 

Grabbing his hands, you peel his fingers off his own legs.

“What’re, what—“

“Shush.”

Without support, his legs drop a little bit. You reposition them around your waist. Leaning down, which moves the dildo into him again, you ask directly as he moans, 

“What should I do about your cock? Should I use my hand? Are you going to use yours?”

“I uh, uh—I can’t think about th-that right now, b-baby!” he wheezes. “Just-just please¸ please, oh god—“

With that amount of desperation in his voice, you fuck him.

It’s not incredibly skillful. Several times you have to stop and readjust things. But once you get somewhat of a rhythm going, it’s okay. The base of the dildo presses sweetly against your clit, Rick’s boney ankles lock behind your back, and he cries out with each thrust of your hips. Although occasionally he says simple phrases like, “oh fuck” or “yes” or “oh god, baby”, this seems to be a situation in which he can’t actually talk through sex, which is fascinating to you. You never expected Rick to be so overcome he couldn’t speak.

You prop yourself up off of him with one rigid arm. The other, well, you just can’t help stroking his cock; it’s an ingrained habit. You use the hand that had residual lube on it, and you caress him in time to your hips. No matter what he said at first, he likes it.

His cock seems to get a little harder in your fist. His legs squeeze you uncomfortably, and on one of your pushes into him, he holds you there. From your vantage point you see his balls tighten closer to his body, and then he comes with a protracted cry. Semen erupts over your hand and onto his belly.

You stop all movement and wait until his muscles start to release their tension again before gently pulling out of him. 

Rick moans as you do, and it strikes you that the sound is similar to what you make when he pulls out of you after sex. 

He tries to help you clean up, but he’s sated and lazy now. You leave him sprawled on his cot and do it yourself with an indulgent smile. He repeatedly tells you you’re the best, the best, that he’s going to make it up to you, that he hopes you’ll be willing to do it again? And maybe you’re not so worried about ‘anal stuff’ anymore?

You chuckle at his stream of consciousness praise and queries. When you’re finished cleaning yourself, him, the toy, and you’ve pulled the towel out from under him, you slip into the bed with him, settling in so his arm is under your neck.

Typically Rick isn’t a cuddler, but tonight seems to have softened him and you’re able to fall asleep snuggled into his side.


	12. Day 12: Mature

The boxed numbered 12 is marked “mostly for him, but some for her.”

You puzzle over it a little, but Rick’s too impatient to wait for you and snaps his fingers to hurry you along in taking the paper off.

You scowl at him but do as he implies. 

Inside is an interesting contraption. It has a ring, a cock ring, that you can understand, but attached to it—

“Shit, dawg!” Rick exclaims, and snatches it out of your hands. “I’ve always wanted one of these!” 

“What is it?”

For once he’s so excited he doesn’t deride you for being less smart than him. “It’s a cock ring and anal plug! This one is a little bent-a little curved, for my, my prostrate—holy hell this is gonna feel so good! Come on, baby, let’s get this party started!” 

Until this month, you’d never realized how much Rick was okay with anal play. You hope one of the remaining advent boxes contains lube, or you’re going to have to head out and get some soon.


	13. Day 13: Mature

This one, numbered 13, is small. It is labeled, “for him”, and the box fits easily in your hand. 

You pass it to Rick. 

“You’re supposed to open these.”

You shake your head. “It specifically says for him. This one is all yours.”

It’s interesting watching Rick unwrap a present. He’s meticulous about not ripping the paper, so the process takes longer than expected as he painstakingly peels the tape off with delicate care. 

“You must be so fun on Christmas morning,” you joke. 

“I’ll wrap my dick in a ribbon and bow, and you’d _better_ be careful about unwrapping it.”

“I’ll just wear edible underwear and you can eat your way to your present.”

He stops for a moment to flick you a wicked smirk.

You wonder to yourself if edible underwear is hidden in one of these advent boxes. 

Finally, Rick manages to reveal the gift. 

Even though it says it’s for him and you insisted he do the honors, you pluck the small box out of his hand. 

“Tokidoki pocket dipper,” you read aloud, and give it a shake. 

Something moves slightly against the inside of the box. You pop the lid, and dump a plastic ball, emblazoned with the name of the product and cute cartoonish drawings, into your palm. 

You roll it around and find the word “Bones” and an odd pictogram of a skull and crossbones—the skull is actually a little heart, you determine when you squint at it—along the side, but you really have no idea what to make of it.

“Here,” you say with a shrug, and toss it back to Rick. “It says it’s yours.”

He catches it and examines it like you did. He uses a fingernail to pick at the plastic encasing the ball, and peels it off. The black orb splits in half, like a plastic egg, and inside is an opaque silicone mass, also vaguely egg shaped. 

Once again curiosity overcomes you and you grab at it. Rick makes a half-hearted attempt to fend you off, but you snatch it away from him.

The silicone is smooth, wobbly and thin, and the size of it fits neatly in the palm of your hand. It has an opening on one end. 

Experimentally you stick a finger in it, then two.

“There’s little knobs on the inside!” you exclaim, and flip the thing inside out.

The heart and crossbones pattern displayed on the outer packaging are in bas relief on the inner part of the toy. You chuckle, and turn it right side out again.

“It’s cute!” you say.

“It’s so small,” Rick retorts. “Is it like, like a hat for my dick?”

You laugh again and, just for fun, stretch it. Surprisingly, it expands a large amount. Testing it further, if you bunch your fingers together, you can almost get your entire hand up to your knuckles in it. It’s also flexible enough to become a long, more slender tube, so—

“—it’s large enough to go completely over your dick!” you announce, with glee.

Rick looks skeptical, and takes it from you. He performs the same experiment of checking its springiness and pliability. As the material it’s made from stretches, it gets thinner, but it’s seems strong enough to hold up under normal pressure and not split. 

But he’s still not convinced. 

“What’ll I do with it? When would I ever use this thing?”

You consider this. “Sometimes you go away. On your adventures, or whatever. You could take this in your ship.”

He gives you a dry look. “Leave a hand sized masturbation device in my ship? That doesn’t seem like it would backfire or be awkward at all, at any time.”

You laugh at him. “It’s not like it looks like a pocket pussy! It’s just a little ball! You can put it in the side pocket of the driver’s side door, and no one would ever know! Then, if you feel a little horny flying around out in space by yourself, you’ve got a little somethin’ somethin’ to play with!”

“Hmmph,” he replies, unconvinced. 

“And if you want to make it extra special, when you’re out there all alone and suddenly decide you need to jerk off,” you say flirtatiously, dropping your voice, “then you could call me up and we could do a little phone sex. Me here on boring old Earth, doing myself, and you up there, with this little toy, talking each other through it . . .”

“Hmmph,” Rick says again, shoves the silicone back into its case, and tosses it unceremoniously into the box where he keeps all the sex toys.

But at a later time, you realize you haven’t seen that cute black ball anywhere in that box, and you wonder when he’s going to surprise you with a long-distance call.


	14. Day 14: NSFW

Box numbered 14 is labeled “for him or her”, and whatever is inside bumps around when you tip it. 

You rip off the cheap paper and open the box to find a set of anal beads, tethered by a string and graduating from small at the end to a final one that’s the largest of the three. There is approximately an inch between each bead. 

You hold the toy up and try to hide your wince. 

Rick isn’t having it. “Babe, I have had so much of this stuff up my ass. This time it’s your turn.”

“I don’t know, Rick . . .”

“You keep say-saying that. That “you don’t know.” Well, you’ll never know unless you t-try. And now is the perfect time! Okay? Okay? I’ll make it good for you.”

With misgivings, you reluctantly agree. 

Rick finds a towel, covers his bed with it, and puts the necessary items in a row on it. You lick your lips and don’t look at the beads, the bottle of lube, or the cleaning wipes he has ready.

To your relief, he doesn’t just jump in with them. He kisses you first, a long, sensual kiss with lots of tongue play and breathing into your mouth. When he starts running his hands over you and moving his mouth from your lips to your neck, to your shoulder, he darts back up to steal another kiss, while making sure to caress each erogenous zone he’s every discovered on your body.

It’s all meant to relax and put you at ease, and you work very hard to let it happen.

Rick lays you back and kisses his way down your body. He settles between your legs and you can’t help but tense up a little bit.

He nips at the tender skin on the inside of your right thigh.

“Relax, baby,” he tells you, and before you can say anything he puts his mouth on your pussy.

He eats you slow and deep, taking an inordinate amount of time to lick you. Tease you. Take you to the brink of orgasm, then backing away so you whine and scrabble at the top of his head to keep him in place. He laughs when you do that, and doesn’t give in to your desperation. Instead, he goes back to long, easy tonguing of your cunt. 

At some point he slips his tongue into you, a lithe intrusion that is so different than his fingers or his cock. The position shoves his nose into your clit and makes you cry out at the pleasure. 

That’s how he brings you to your first orgasm.

As you start coming down from that high, he uses his first two fingers to focus solely on your clit. He makes tiny, delicate circles on it. The only other stimulation he gives you is his breath; his face so close to your pussy that it’s steady and easy against the primed nerve endings there. 

You whimper more, and make softer noises as he gently manipulates you. You knew his fingers were nimble. You never expected the calloused tips of them to herd you to such a high peak, higher than you would have thought possible without tumbling over the edge.

Rick darts the tip of his tongue out quickly, snake-like, to flick your over-roused clit, and you come again, moaning his name and, 

“Yes, yes, yes yes—“

You slur the words together like it’s a hymn in his praise. 

Through blurry eyes, you see him grin up at you.

Now you’re actually relaxed, instead of the facsimile of it you tried to pretend earlier. 

Rick hikes your thighs up, over his shoulders, which shifts your pelvis. Without further ado, he licks the puckered muscle there.

You jump, a little. He doesn’t let you go. Wetness has already coated the area, and as unhurried as he’s been already, he moves at a snail’s pace here. He rims you. He applies tiny amounts of pressure with the flat of his tongue to your ass, then, when your moans and position tell him you’ve relaxed even more, he uses a finger to apply pressure too.

Just the tip breaches the ring of muscle. Before you can jerk or tense again, he withdraws.

He still doesn’t give you the chance to say anything or move, however. He finds all the supplies he’s already spread out, so it’s easy for him to grab a bottle of lube and coat his finger. Before you know it, he’s introduced that finger to the same spot, and now, because of the lubrication, he glides it in with only a little resistance. 

“Oh!” you exclaim.

Rick flicks his glance up to you. “Don’t tense up, baby.”

You take a few deep breaths and visualize your tension dissipating with each outward breath.

It helps.

When Rick physically feels you loosen, he carefully moves his finger in and out in a gentle thrust. The sensation is okay, you think. Not great, but not as bad as you expected. 

He continues for a moment or two more, then extracts himself and gives you another second. While you think about it, and the fact that it almost feels like something is missing, now that he has stopped, he hikes himself up on his elbows, picks up the anal beads and dollops a generous amount of lubrication on the first—and smallest—one.

You watch him liberally coat the toy. After it’s covered to his satisfaction, he uses the same lubed finger to tap your ass again. You focus on your breathing again. 

“You ready, baby?” he asks, his voice deep.

“Y-yes,” you stutter. You don’t know if you stumbled over the word due to apprehension or excitement.

Rick runs the bead over the muscle there, slowly. It teases; you definitely weren’t aware of all the nerve-endings that were in the area. Your breath comes in shorter pants.

Then, when you are both ready and not-quite-ready at the same time, he eases the bead into you. It feels like too much, then easy. You gasp. He gives you a moment, then like before with his finger, gently rocks it back and forth. It’s doesn’t go any deeper than his finger had, but it is slightly wider, and the sensation is oddly good. 

When your sounds are more pleased than surprised, he adds more lube and slips the second bead in. That feels fuller, and you gasp again, but he can tell it’s a delighted gasp. He doesn’t take as long to add the third and final bead, gliding it inside you as well.

After that, he stops all movement to allow you to adjust. 

“How does that feel, baby?”

“It’s—good,” you admit. “It feels . . . different, but good . . .”

“I’m gonna move them a little—“

He does, and a deep thrill lights up inside you, in a spot you never knew could. It’s different than your pussy, different than your clit. It’s something that you could see, maybe, getting used to . . . you moan in a different voice, and you see a smile flit across Rick’s face, still down between your legs. 

Continuing to rock the beads, he asks, “What do you want now, baby? Do you want me to eat you out again, or fuck you—“

“You-you can do that?”

He chuckles. “Of course I can do that. I’ve been squashing my hard-on into this shitty mattress since I first went down on you.”

“I mean, I meant—with the beads? There?”

Rick gives them another light tug and twists them at the same time. You groan.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna love it,” he laughs, and moves up above you. 

He leaves the string of beads in place and settles on his knees between your legs. You’re wet enough and he’s used enough lube that guiding his cock into your pussy is no difficulty at all. He sinks balls’ deep into you, and the feeling of him plus the beads in your ass is like nothing you’ve ever felt before.

As careful as he’s been up to this point, Rick fucks you moderately. You gasp and clutch at him, grabbing his ass to pull him in closer. It’s good, as always, you love having him deep inside you, and the sensation seems amplified with the beads in place. You wonder if he can feel them too, and almost manage to ask, but he pops his hips forward with a little more power and you come again. 

Every muscle in your groin clenches, which sends more bliss through you. Rick must feel some of it because he grits his teeth and comes too with a hissing moan. It takes him several seconds before he can pull out and slightly away from you. 

His cock is still dripping and he’s panting, but instead of any aftercare he says again, 

“You ready?”

“Ready for what—“ you start to say, but before you can actually complete the question he tugs the beads out of you in a measured, steady motion. 

The sensation of them leaving you is indescribable. It’s good, it’s peculiar, it continues to stimulate the nerves that have done so much already tonight. You cry out and don’t quite come again, but it leaves you with a sweet ache in your groin. 

Now it takes you several moments to stop shaking and get grounded again. 

Rick wipes you clean with a cloth that is slightly cold. You lazily watch as he cleans himself and the toy. He also pulls you to your feet so he can get the towel off his mattress and tells you to use the toilet while he puts everything away.

When you return, everything is as neat and tidy as Rick typically makes it. He doesn’t thank you or tell you, “I told you so,” but kisses you again and tucks you in beside him on his small cot. 

The pleasurable twinge deep inside you takes a long time to go away.


	15. Day 15: Mature

This box, number 15, was also small and slim.

“Not another box of condoms!” Rick groused.

“Nope,” you tell him, as you read the print on the packet. “It’s BJ Blast Oral Sex candy.”

“What?”

He swipes it out of your hand and examines it himself.

“So-so-so this is like Pop Rocks? You’re gonna get a mouthful-you’re gonna put this in your mouth and then suck my dick?”

You nod thoughtfully. “Yeah.”

His brow furrows, thinking it through. “And then, then you’re gonna let me go down on you after I dump the remainder in my mouth?”

“Yeah! Sounds like fun. You want to 69?”

“Uh, no. I want to concentrate when you get near my dick with a mouth full of carbonated sugar. It may not be a-a p-pleasant experience.”

But from the surprised sounds he made and the tight, white-knuckled grip he had on the sheets and your shoulder, it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.


	16. Day 16: Mature

The next box, number 16, was small and square, and looked a little like a ring box.

Although some boxes were marked “for the man” and others specified “for the woman”, this one didn’t. That was a little unusual, even if you couldn’t imagine what jewelry a sex store may provide.

As usual, Rick lets you open it. And you’re just about to, when a sudden, slightly terrifying thought skips through your mind.

“This is part of the advent calendar thing, right?” you ask.

“Huh? Yes.”

“Really?” you demand, suspiciously. “This isn’t something you put in here on your own, right? Right? This isn’t your idea. This isn’t you giving me something?”

It only takes Rick a couple of seconds to catch your drift. 

“Oh fuck no!” he insists. “You-you think that’s an _engagement ring?_ Jesus christ, absolutely not! I-I-I made that mistake once before, I sure as fuck am not d-doing it again!”

You’re still suspicious, even though deep down you know he’s telling the truth—isn’t he?!—and cautiously open the hinged box.

A wave of relief washes through you. 

Nestled inside, on satin, are two nipple clamps. 

Rick glances over them and sniffs. “I guess I could wear them, but they’re pretty fancy. Most clamps for men are a little more utilitarian.”

“Oh, I think you’d look hot with bejeweled nipples!” you half-tease.

He doesn’t agree though. And you learn that you previously believed your nipples weren’t that sensitive, but after being clamped and toyed with, Rick shows you they actually are.


	17. Day 17: NSFW

“What the—?”

Box number 17 held two small, roughly u-shaped gadgets. There were no instructions Rick was lounging back with his eyes closed, not paying attention for once. Whatever he’d done today, it’d tired him out.

So you fiddled with one of the things by yourself, without his input. You discovered a small button that made it vibrate in your hand, which made you jump at the surprise. Rick half-opened an eye at you shaking the mattress like that, but didn’t say anything so you didn’t either. He went back to “resting his eyes”.

The thing wasn’t the right shape to be comfortable in your hand or on your clit. You turned it over and over between your fingers, trying to figure it out. As was your habit—something that Rick called your oral fixation and one that he encouraged—you absentmindedly tapped it against your mouth while you were thinking.

The minute vibration seemed amplified against your lips.

With another second’s consideration, you lick the end of the thing that wasn’t vibrating—it was smaller and narrower—and slipped that portion of it into your mouth. It was most comfortable against the inside of your cheek, nestled and held in place by the corner of your mouth. The part with the power button and vibrator stayed just to the outside of your lips. 

It wasn’t strong enough to rattle your teeth, but it was still more vibration than you expected. You depress the button at the outside of your cheek and it stops.

You looked down at Rick. He was naked. That was an agreed upon rule for this advent calendar: you’d both be naked, you’d open the boxes together, and have fun. 

Well, he was almost asleep, it seemed, but you weren’t tired. If he’d said he wasn’t interested in participating tonight, you would have been fine with that. But he didn’t, and here you were with a discreet vibrator held snugly in your mouth . . .

Giving him a smile he didn’t see, you twist around on the bed. His thin chest rose and fell with his breathing, old bruises were fading to yellow on various parts of his body, the fingers on his left hand twitched randomly. Drool accumulated at the corner of his lip. His cock was flaccid in his nest of silver-blue pubic hair.

He was closer to sleep than not, no matter what he said.

You should just let him sleep, you thought.

Then you thought, if he had a brand new mouth vibrator, he wouldn’t let _you_ sleep.

So you move a little more, and close your mouth over his soft cock.

Rick tensed a bit but didn’t quite come back from the land of Nod. You don’t care. You pull his slack cock into your mouth, applying suction, moving on it only a little since too much movement would make it slip from your mouth. In only a few seconds, even without him being fully awake, his cock likes the attention and fills. 

You continue to blow him. He makes little moans that let you know he’s finally awake again, but he doesn’t touch you. He just lets you do your thing. The device at the corner of your mouth makes it a little difficult to get a good seal around him, but you do the best you can. You also deep throat him, the head of his cock pressing against your throat, as long as you can, until you need air. You pull back for it. 

He slips a hand under your jaw. 

“What’s that thing, baby?” he asks sleepily, indicating the new toy. “I d-don’t really like it, I can feel it in the corner of your mouth against my cock. Take it out-get rid of it.”

Instead of following his order, you hold his eyes and press the button to turn it on. He can obviously feel the vibration in his hand, now, but his brow still furrows a little. Before he can say anything else, though, you drop your mouth back onto his cock, swallowing him whole again.  
That move, plus the new element of vibration, makes Rick fold at his core, his shoulders coming off the bed and his knees jerking.

“Holy _shit!”_ he exclaimed, jolted into full wakefulness.

You don’t waste any more time with soft or slow movements. You blow him hard. You use every trick you know: holding him deeply within your mouth for a few seconds longer than you think you can stand, swirling your tongue clockwise and then anti-clockwise along his shaft, and for a few seconds, gripping him by the base of his cock and stroking him, holding just the head in your mouth while your hand does the work. The vibrator sends waves through your mouth and through him too, it appears.

Rick writhes below you. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He grabs your hair, grabs your shoulders, grabs the sheets. He cried out in unrhythmic groans and gasps, and finally, unexpectedly, his long fingers slipped below your jaw again to hold you still.

The fact he doesn’t pull you off him completely doesn’t escape you.

“I’m gonna come—I’m gonna come baby—is that, is that—“

You can’t bob your head, but you do roll your tongue around the head of his cock while you maintain eye contact with him.

_“—is that what you want right now?”_ he demanded.

In reply, you shook off his hand and swallowed him again, using as much suction as you can with the vibrator hooked on your lips. 

Rick howled. His fingers leave your jaw and tangle into your hair, holding you tight against his pubic bone.

He dumps his load thickly into your throat. You stay in place until, in small, jerky movements, he can release you. You swallow as his cock slipped from your mouth, and that feeling around his cock made him moan again.

His entire groin is a sticky mess. That vibrator made you drool a lot more than usual; you pull it out of your mouth and turn it off. You run your fingers through the wet on him.

Rick settled back on his pillow, trying to catch his breath. He reached for you.

“Jesus, baby,” he croaked. “That was s-something.”

“Sure was,” you agreed.

He closed his eyes again. 

However, once again, you don’t leave him alone.

“Hey,” you said, poking his chin.

He cracked open an eye, lazily. 

You make sure he’s paying attention as you show him the other, unused oral vibrator. You make a production of coating the one end, then grip his lower jaw and use a little pressure to open his mouth. 

You slipped the device to its proper position in the corner of his mouth, and settled between his teeth and cheek. With a flourish, you turn it on.

“Your turn,” you tell him.

Rick grinned, licked his lips and explored the vibrator with his tongue, then ordered you to climb up and sit on his face.


	18. Day 18: Mature

Number 18 wasn’t a box, but a small packet. You feel it, and guess it could be another condom, although it’s a little larger. It’s also marked “for the man”, and why would a guy need a condom for himself?

It’s a silicone cock ring. 

Rick scowls at it.

“I don’t need that,” he grumbles. 

“You might. We’ve been having lots of sex. Once for each night of advent. They put this one in just in case your little Ricky is getting tired.”

He doesn’t want to admit it, but using the ring did make his erection harder and last a little longer.


	19. Day 19: NSFW

Another more rectangular box tonight, labelled 19. You sit on the edge of Rick’s cot to open it. He’s behind you, peering over your shoulder. 

Nestled inside a contoured plastic holder is dildo. It’s not incredibly large, and also thinner than most you’ve seen.

“How many of these do they think people need?” you ask rhetorically. “I don’t think I would use this one. It’s a lot smaller than most. Don’t people typically want them bigger? Or is this like for someone who hasn’t actually had sex?”

Rick takes the box and pulls the toy out. “I think-you may be right about that.”

You shrug. “Toss it, then. I don’t need a smaller dick when I’m used to yours.” 

You grin at him and walk your fingers down his hip to his groin and cup his cock and bollocks playfully.

“Mmm-hmm,” Rick replies, in a tone that you recognize as being distracted. 

You give him a moment as he continues to examine the dildo. He tries to fold it and can’t; he pulls it and it doesn’t stretch. However, there are two rings at the base of it do stretch quite a bit, and returns to their original shape when he releases them.

He finally looks back up at you. “Y-you’re right, baby. This _is_ for someone who hasn’t actually had a lot of sex.” He pauses, for dramatic effect. “Anal sex, that is.”

“What?”

He’s more than happy to demonstrate. “Obviously it’s-it’s smaller. And see how this dildo is slightly curved instead of just straight? So it’s a little more natural. And the rings, well, one goes over my dick and the other down around my balls—“

He interrupts himself to show you how it would fit without actually putting it on. 

“—so it’s-it’s, so it’s in essence _two_ dicks. For double penetration!”

You eye the thing dubiously.

“Wanna give it a go?” Rick asks. There’s a hopeful inflection in his voice. “I think you’re gonna like it.”

You sigh. “I don’t know, Rick . . .”

“I know what kind of porn you watch, baby. The pornhub history is always ‘creampies’ and ‘double penetration’. Well, you get one of those all the time, so why not try the second?”

It doesn’t even faze you that Rick knows what kind of porn you watch. You counter his argument with, “I also watch hentai, but I don’t really want to be fucked by a monster with multiple tentacles!”

Rick lifts an eyebrow and gives you a sweet smile. “First of all, they’re aliens, not monsters, and second—I could arrange that for you too, baby. If you’re ever interested. ”

You roll your eyes but can’t help and chuckle. 

Rick, for once, doesn’t continue to try and beguile you into letting him fuck you in both the pussy and ass at the same time. He lays down and fiddles around with the toy, like he’s fascinated with it. It’s an act, you just know it, but you watch as he strokes himself to erection as well. When he’s hard, he compares sizes between his cock and the dildo—his is much larger—and then he positions it at the base of his shaft, atop his scrotum, so it does poke out, just like he does have two dicks. 

There’s no mistaking the two, however, the fake one is not only smaller but a bright cherry red. You could only imagine how randy Rick would be if he actually did have two penises, and the thought makes you laugh again.

“Oh, you like the look of this?” he asks innocently. “All this could be yours, baby . . .”

You lay on your side beside him, your head propped up on your fist as you look down at him. The hand you used to cup him before goes to his hard-on, and you give him a pull too. Your hand is dry and his cock is dry, but he bites his lip and groans. You fondle him again, softly.

“Those straps aren’t going to hurt you? They look kind of small to fit around you . . .”

“Nah,” he replies, between quiet moans. “They’re stretchy. They’ll act like-act like—do that again, ba-ba-baby, oh, that’s good—they’ll act like a cock ring and ball stretcher, so—oh!”

“What’s a ball stretcher?”

“You’re such a tease,” he says instead of answering. “If you’re gonna jerk me off, just-just do it!”

You don’t rise to his bait. You keep your grip light, but you twist the next stroke you give him, and his hips lurch in response. 

“What’s a ball stretcher?” you repeat. 

“It’s a, a thing that keeps testicles—baby, please!—when a guy is about to come, the testicles retract up closer to his body. A ball stretcher keeps, keeps them hanging lower, keeps them away, so-so-so the orgasm is more intense—damn it, are you going to give me a hand job or just torment me?!”

He’s right; you really haven’t been touching him with much intent. You were teasing him. He hasn’t released the dildo; it’s still positioned below the cock you’re “tormenting”.

“Seems like you’re pretty eager to try this thing out.”

Rick looks you straight in the eye. “Yeah. It’ll feel good to me, no doubt. It’ll feel good to you, too. Promise.”

You can’t deny you had fantasized about it before. And Rick was correct: a lot of your solo porn watching did seem to end up with a woman being drilled in both holes. It was a fantasy, however, because you never wanted to figure out the logistics of being sandwiched between two guys. Plus anal stuff wasn’t anything you had ever been super keen about. But here was a solution, presented in a way you hadn’t considered, and Rick, who was more than willing to do this with you. 

For you. 

To you.

“Okay,” you agree in a small voice. “I guess I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

Rick grows very still for a moment, searching your face to try and detect a lie. He can’t help but be a little skeptical.

“So . . . you’re saying you’ve never let me fuck you in the ass, but dp for the very first time is okay?”

“You know how much I like Deadpool. I would totally do him. And his refractory period has got to be nil, what with his accelerated cellular regeneration and all.”

He rolls his eyes at both your nerd-knowledge and your feeble attempt at a joke. 

You smile brightly at him, then reassure, “Yes Rick, I’m willing to give this a try.”

He studies you some more.

“But if I don’t like it, you have to stop!”

He comes to the conclusion he shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, and is suddenly on board too. “Sure baby, of course! Don’t I make you feel good? Don’t I make you come so hard you cry sometimes? It’s going to be even better with two!”

He’s right about the first two; you hope he’s telling the truth about the third.

You’ve done some minor anal things before, and Rick knew how to push the right buttons. Tonight he really turns on the charm and uses his sexual prowess to edge you multiple times before he even thinks about fucking you. From just his fingers and his mouth your pussy is tender and aching and you’re desperate for release.

He denies you it, even when you beg.

He focuses his attention on your ass, then, with lots of spit and lube and more teasing for prep. His tongue and fingers are just as wicked here, even though you don’t feel the overwhelming urge to orgasm; it still feels good, just different. 

Finally, he takes a bit of a break. You’re sweaty and relaxed and splayed open before him. 

Rick looks down on you and grins.

“You’re coming apart at the seams,” he tells you, as if you don’t know. 

“I’d like to just come, thank you,” you retort, but there’s no bite behind the words. 

His grin widens at that. He considers something for a moment, then he announces, “This is what I’m going to do.” He holds up the dildo. “I’m going to fuck your pussy with it—“

You immediately whine in protest. “No, I want you, Rick, that thing is so small!”

He laughs at your eagerness. “B-baby, it’s just a warm up. I know you’re hot and bothered—“ He looks so proud of himself. “—but if you come on this tiny thing I may be insulted. I’m just going put it in so it gets warmed up a little, okay? Then I’m going to-I’m gonna lubricate it and slip it into your ass.”

The whine you give him this time is wordless.

“You don’t want me putting it on and just shoving them both into you,” he chides. “Trust me on this.”

With some thought, you realize he’s right. 

“Then, after you’re really loose, I’ll put it on and fuck you for real.”

He doesn’t ask if that plan is okay. He knows he’s aroused you enough that you’ll let him do just about anything. 

He applies a thin coat of lube to the dildo, and like he said, slides it into your pussy. Like you said, it’s much smaller than him, but the feeling of it is good and you squeeze around it as if it’s him anyway. 

Rick chuckles. “Been doing your kegels?”

“Been fucking you,” you reply, “so I have to keep in shape.”

“Oh, I know, baby,” he coos as he rocks the dildo a little inside you. “Your pussy’s so tight, I love it so much—“

Before you can get too worked up having it in you, he pulls it out. Even that little bit of stimulation tantalizing and you gasp at the loss.

Rick considers something before just moving on. “Let’s do this, baby,” he decides, and leaves your side without telling what it was. He digs around under his bed and pulls out the rolled up sleeping bag you’ve never seen him touch before. 

“This is . . . hmm . . . this is a little big . . .”

“You are not shoving that thing inside me, Rick Sanchez!” you say. Even though it’s a joke, you put a harsh edge on the words for comedic effect.

He stops dead still for a moment, then bursts into laughter. “Good one, babe. No, I want to-want to lift your hips . . . let me unroll it a little . . .”

He busies himself doing that, and you busy yourself by licking your first two fingers and rubbing your clit. It’s so sensitive you moan while you watch him. 

“Easy there, baby. Don’t finish without me.”

“You’re taking your sweet time.”

“I’m taking my time so you’ll like it, and are eventually willing to let me fuck you in the ass.”

“Ah! There’s the ulterior motive I’ve come to expect!”

He takes the ribbing in stride. Finally, he’s satisfied with the size of the support and tugs on your ankle to indicate you should scoot down. He also jams a hand under your hip and helps lift you—even though you’re fully capable of raising your own butt, thank you very much—and settle you on the roll. 

You end up in a position where your pelvis is canted slightly upward. It’s not uncomfortable, but it will be better when he’s between your thighs and your legs will have some support too. 

Rick sits between your knees and looks you over. 

“Ready?”

“I guess . . .”

He smirks. He plants a kiss on your left knee, and covers the dildo with lubrication. He also smears a copious amount on your asshole, which makes you twitch, which makes him chuckle.

When the head of the dildo presses against you, he cautions you not to tense up, and leans down to glides his tongue into your pussy as he slips the dildo in at the same time. Your twitch this time is more of a surprised jerk, and he gives you a second.

As you relax and get used to the feeling of something in your ass, he pushes it in further. He gives you plenty of time to adjust to it, based on the gasps you make and how much you tremble. He also laps at your pussy and occasionally your clit, for a distraction. Your apprehension gradually melts away, and he finally lifts his head. 

“Okay, baby?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter. “How much more is there . . .?”

“It’s all in. You’ve taken it all.”

“Oh!” you say, surprised. It wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be; it’s just different. You clench your muscles, and a twinge of pleasure snakes through your gut. 

Rick can feel what you do, and he glances down. “That’s good, baby . . .”

He lets you have a moment, then moves it carefully. The sensation of it sliding in and out sends more pleasure sparking through you. As he continues to watch you respond to this, Rick’s breath becomes shallow too, and spit gathers on his lower lip. 

You take the side of his head to raise his gaze. His pupils are dilated and he breathes through his mouth.

“I think I’m ready, Rick,” you tell him. 

He licks his lips and nods quickly. 

He withdraws the dildo from your ass; you gasp again. With the addition of more lube, he wrangles it over his cock and then stretches the second ring so he can gently coax his balls through, one at a time, until the thing is snug and positioned properly. It looks a little odd, a little funny, Rick with two dicks, but it’s also arousing and you reach for him, to pull him back in. 

It takes a moment of fumbling, then a pause for more lubrication, then the admonishment to not tense up again, then the counter warning of not to just shove into you, then a little more awkward fumbling to hold everything steady, then carefully, carefully, Rick eases into you. 

The sensation is immense. You’re used to his cock opening you up, filling you, and you never imagined a second one pushing you passed what you thought was your limit. You’re grateful the dildo is smaller, because you don’t know how you would have handled it being the same size. It feels like more than you can describe. 

Rick is steady with his thrust. He gives you time to accommodate to everything but moving slowly. As he continues, you hold your breath. 

“You gotta s-stay loose, baby,” Rick reminds you again. He’s got a hitch in his voice that isn’t the standard stammer.

You consciously try. It’s better if you continue to breathe, it gives you something to concentrate on, so you do that: deep breaths in for a four count, hold for six, then release for eight, and gradually you can feel the stiffness in your body diminish again. It also seems to help if you keep your eyes closed, so you do that to, until Rick stops moving above you.

“Why’d you stop?” you ask.

“I had to.”

“Why? I’m trying to stay relaxed—“

“Baby, I’m all the way in,” Rick whispers, and your eyelids flutter open to find him biting his lip with a look of concentration furrowing his brow above you. 

Now that you stop focusing all your attention on your breath, you can feel everything. It is pressure, it is pleasure, it is so very much—

“Does it feel good to you?” you ask Rick.

He barks a laugh that shakes you both. “Baby, I’m a-I am an old man. But r-r-right now I am doing my damnedest not to come because your cunt is so _tight—“_

You giggle too. It doesn’t have the same full-body shake effect as Rick’s laughter did, but the minute shifting sends tendrils of new bliss through you. You squeeze yourself around his cock. It doesn’t feel like you’ve done much of anything, but Rick gives a long, low moan.

So you do it again.

_“F-f-fuck,”_ he hisses, and manages to open his eyes. “I am not going to last long—“

You grab the sides of his face and pull him down to kiss him. Your tongue finds his and you squeeze him again; he breaks away from your mouth to moan again. His hips judder in automatic response, and he starts thrusting into you in small strokes.

One of your hands takes his waist, the other slips further down to grab his ass. Rick drops his head close to your neck. 

His movements, as small as they are, continue to build on the pleasure he’d kindled already tonight. 

“I’m not going to last long either,” you whisper to him. 

“That’s good,” he grunts back, the syllables of the words timed to his thrusts.

“So fuck me like you mean it!”

He laughs again. The shaking causes new sensations deep in your groin and you clutch at him, moaning loudly. 

“Christ, baby, you’re so fucking _eager._ Do you know the control I have to-have to maintain with this thing? I’m ball’s deep in you, your pussy’s so fucking tight because of the dildo in your ass, and I have to keep in mind that that dildo isn’t as long as my dick so instead of fucking you hard—which I want to do, because _fuck_ this feels good—instead of doing what I want, I have to calculate how much I can actually pull back so the dildo doesn’t come out. Because I highly doubt you want to have me ramming that thing repeated back in your asshole. You wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow, and then the chances of you letting me tap your ass again are slim to none.”

You growl and bite his ear. “You done whining?”

Rick lifts his head off of you and snorts.

“Just fuck me, Rick!” you demand.

Despite the reasons he laid out in his soliloquy, he obliges. It’s not the hard pounding that the two of you enjoy so much; it’s the best he can do with what he has to work with tonight. The feeling of being doubly penetrated makes a sweet ache erupt in your belly; it’s what you expected but more than you imagined. Even though Rick moves at a slower, shallower pace, due to the addition of the dildo, and because he’d edged you for so long, it doesn’t take much for the orgasm you’d been chasing to come within easy reach.

Your hands grasp at him involuntarily and your voice is gone before the waves of ecstasy running through your body dissolve. You realize, after you’re finally able to focus on something besides that pleasure, that your cheeks are wet too.

Rick is smiling down at you.

“Welcome back,” he says.

“Are you—did you come?” you ask.

“Y-yep.”

“Oh man, I didn’t even know! I’m sorry!”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I told you I-I-I wasn’t going to last long.”

You press a kiss to the side of his head, and gasp with just about the same volume as he eases out of you. Your entire pelvic region feels loose and disconnected. You’re also soaking wet. 

Rick fiddles around with the straps of the dildo and manages to get it off. He looks over at the state of you—sweaty, red-faced, groaning a little as residual pangs throb in your groin—and stands up. He holds out a hand as he does.

“Come on, baby.”

“What? Where are we going? I can’t go anywhere, I don’t know if I can walk right now—“

“Quit bitching. We’re going to go wash up, and I’m going to get you some painkillers.”

He pulls you to your feet and supports you as you determine if your legs will hold you up. 

“I’ll strip and remake your bed,” you offer. 

“I’ll let you,” he agrees amicably. “But let’s get cleaned up first.”

You grab one of his lab coats and pull it around yourself; he does the same but doesn’t hold it closed like you do yours. He really doesn’t give a flip about what his family may see. Or hear, because once you’re in the shower with him he praises you loudly about how good you took both cocks, how he hopes you’re willing to let him fuck you in the ass himself, and how fucking tight your cunt was, baby.

He’s told you he had soundproofed his room. You can’t imagine he did the same to the shared bathroom, but by that point you’re so exhausted you can’t even care.

You leave Rick to finish washing himself and stumble back to his room, stopping along the way to dig through a linen closet for all the spare sheets and blankets you’ll need. You pull all the linens from his cot and put all the new ones on, then collapse on the fresh bed.

The next thing you know, it’s morning and Rick is snoring quietly next to your ear. Your groin still feels a little achy, but it’s a good ache. You wiggle into the blanket that he obviously covered you with, and drift back to sleep.


	20. Day 20: NSFW

Rick grumbled wordlessly at the contents of box number 20.

You, however, pull it out and heft it in your hands, and a small fire of excitement flares in your belly.

“So many goddamn things to wear on my dick,” he grouses.

You shush him. “What did you expect? Just an advent calendar full of different vibrators? Or fetish gear? Maybe those were options. But you picked up a his and hers selection, and this is what we got today.”

“There’s already been a cock ring!”

“This is a cock _sheath,”_ you correct. “It’s going to give you so much girth . . .”

Rick eyes it suspiciously, then takes it out of your hands and scrutinizes it. It’s silicone, so he manages to turn it inside out to inspect the inside of it too. He twists it, he stretches it, he does a side-by-side comparison holding it next to his non-erect cock, then finally sneers his disapproval and tosses it to the floor.

“You never com-plained about my girth before, baby,” he says, making finger quotes around the word girth. 

“You’re right,” you agree, scooping the toy back off the floor. “But you’ve ever seen the dildos in my personal collection, that I keep at home. From Bad Dragon? There’s this one, Flint—he’s really thick and sometimes, if I move him just right—“

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts, with a wave of his hand. Rick’s never much interested in your personal playtimes, if he’s not directly involved. He still looks at the sheath in your hand skeptically. “I’m not-I’m not gonna be able to feel anything with that s-suffocating my dick!”

You turn it over and over in your hands, not willing to give up on this impasse: that he doesn’t want to use it, but you do. Finally, you make him an offer. He still objects a little—his counter offer is to junk the whole idea of using it—so eventually you just shove him back so he’s lounging on his cot with his legs off the side and drop your mouth onto his cock. 

You blow him hard, just how he likes, with lots of spit and moans and choking. You use every trick you possibly can to get him going, and it works: his cock grows in your mouth, Rick fists your hair, tells you how good the back of your throat feels; his hips buck, forcing you to keep his cock in your mouth deeper than is comfortable for just long enough that you’re out of breath. 

He tells you, loudly, that he’s going to come down your throat, and you pull yourself off him. 

Before he can protest too much that you’re a tease and he was so close, you wipe the accumulated spit from your chin, spread it on your chest, and scoot forward on your knees between his legs. With a little manipulation, you squeeze his cock between your tits, and bounce to titty-fuck him.

That stops his complaints with a long, drawn out groan. Rick leans back on his elbows and you can see part of him wants to drop his head back but the other part wants to watch his cock sandwiched in your tits.

At one point, amid the sharp moans and his encouragement to go faster, baby, faster, Rick removes your hands from your own chest and grabs your tits himself. There’s the same juggling to get his cock back in place, but when it’s nestled there, surrounded, he moves at the pace he wanted, grasping your tits in his large hands, giving himself the friction he wants.

Since your hands are free now, you reach up and remove the spit that has collected on his own lip and chin, and smear it on the head of his cock when it appears at the top of your tits. 

That redistributes the wet down between your tits and along his cock, and Rick groans in appreciation as he continues. 

His hips continue to thrust, and he doesn’t announce to you he’s going to come this time. But you’ve been with him long enough that you can tell he’s close when his movements become jerky instead of smooth. 

Once again, before he can ejaculate, you wrest yourself away from him.

“Oh-oh shit, baby, come on, don’t-don’t leave me like this—“ he pants.

Coyly, you hold up the cock sheath. 

“Fine. Fine! Whatever the fuck!” he agrees in the most peevish way possible. 

You don’t care. He agreed!

You slather the sheath with lubrication, inside and out. With the thin coating of lube left on your hand you grasp Rick’s cock and give it a twisting pull; despite himself Rick groans and his hips lift to follow you like your hand is a magnet.

Crankily he asks what position you’d like.

“You just lay back and enjoy it.”

His scowl telegraphs he has doubts about that.

Slipping the sheath over his cock takes a little bit of manipulation, rotation, and more lube. Rick keeps his objections to a minimum during the application; partially, you believe, because it must feel at least a little good as you stroke it down over his cock. 

Finally it’s in place. On his back with it jutting upward, it looks a little intimidating, but you also can’t wait to go for a ride. You slip the hand with the most residual lube on it through your folds and push two fingers inside yourself for at least a minimal amount of prep for this, then throw one leg over him.

You grasp his covered cock to hold it steady, then ease yourself down on to him. 

It opens you up like never before. The head of his cock, no problem. The sheath rests right below it, so immediately it’s wider than you’ve ever had with him. You gasp even at that tiny amount, and deliberately relax yourself to take more of him in. 

Each inch feels like you’re being split. Rick’s being more patient than you’d ever expected from him; he doesn’t force you down or gripe about how long it’s taking. You’re so focused on yourself and the intense pleasure rocketing through your groin—you haven’t even really started moving yet!—that when you’re able to open your eyes you’re surprised to see him watching you intently, his eyes flicking back and forth between your face and his wrapped cock slowly disappearing inside you.

“Keep going, baby, you’re al-most there,” he encourages, in a tone much different than his annoyance at being denied an orgasm earlier. 

In another few moments, you’re able to settle with him completely in your pussy. Your lips are stretch widely so your clit is in full contact with his pubic hair and bone. It is a delicious burn of bliss that, even just sitting here without moving, is almost too much for you to take. 

Rick slaps you, his large hand getting both your hip and ass. It startles you, makes you jerk in surprise, and that miniscule movement with such a large cock buried in you makes you cry out in ecstasy.

He does it again, the jerk, to force you to make the same sound, then orders, 

“Fuck me, baby. Fuck me how you need it.”

So you do.

When you first start fucking him, it still stings as your body adjusts to this new size, but eventually you loosen up. Then you can rock and thrust atop him. Rick holds your upper thighs to keep you seated after one particularly high thrust separates you; climbing back aboard doesn’t hurt that time but feels wonderfully full and right. You laugh at the sensation, and come for the first time as he slides back into you.

You also grind, with him buried deeply in your cunt. You use your core to make circles on his cock, which drives your clit hard into the unyielding surface of his pubic bone. That spikes your pleasure again, and that orgasm is long and drawn out because he holds you in place and won’t let you relax. You’re laughing again, and tears leak from your eyes as waves of pleasure drag you under.

When you’re finally able to focus on him again, your pussy is still stretched around him.

“You done, baby?” 

“Mmm,” you respond, and Rick takes that as a no. 

He shifts himself by bending his knees and planting his feet flat on the mattress, then uses that leverage to push up into you.

He can’t go any further inside, but it still feels wonderful, so strained and filled so deeply. 

“Baby, lean back.”

Wordlessly, you obey, using his thighs as support. That lifts your own pelvis to a slightly different angle, your clit no longer pressed down against him, but it’s still good—

Rick reaches forward and uses his thumb against your clit. You’re so wet the digit slips onto you and settles perfectly there. The circles he makes are smaller and more deliberate than what you were able to do with just your hips, and it feels divine. You rotate in time with what he’s doing, and the sensations build and build again until you cry out in release once more.

You’re wrung out. Exhausted. Even the act of moving off him, of his widened cock easing out of you—more easily then when it first went in, but still with a tiny amount of ache—is almost too much. You’re soaked from your three orgasms, and so is he. 

But there’s still one thing left to do. 

Carefully, you remove the sheath from him. Rick sighs. You don’t know if it’s from relief or maybe a little pleasure—that he still won’t admit—but slowly it’s stripped from him. You drop it on the floor like he had and promise to clean it up later.

His cock is dark and looks painfully erect, since the sheath acted a bit like a desensitization device.

Lube isn’t the best tasting stuff in the world, but you don’t hesitate to close your lips over him again. His cock is hot in your mouth and your slide you tongue over it, flicking the head when you pull back and going clockwise around when you suck him back in. 

The sounds Rick makes almost match yours. He gets a little desperately whiny when he’s close, this time, and once again, you full stop when he’s almost over the edge.

_“Goddamn it!”_ he practically shrieks, surging to a sitting position.

“Come on my face, Rick,” you command, and sink to the floor in front of him. 

His hand automatically encircles his cock. The other cards through the hair on the side of your head, holding you steady.

Frenzied, he jerks off as you wait, smiling up at him. It only takes a few seconds of his hand working for him to come and spurt semen into your waiting mouth and onto your lips and cheeks. He wipes the head of his cock through the ejaculate, smearing it across your face, before finally releasing you with a groan.

“Goddamn it, baby,” he says, in a voice that cracks a little. “I’m an old man. You’re gonna kill me, with the edging and that fucking cock sheath.”

You smile as you wipe yourself clean, because through the complaint you heard a bit of praise in there too.


	21. Day 21: Mature

The tag on this box had 21 written on it, and it was hefty and solid. 

You unwrap it and inside find a fleshlight.

“Another waste,” Rick scowls.

You’re not so sure. 

“I’m . . . kind of tired tonight, Rick,” you admit. You lightly cup the junction between your legs. “I’m sore and I think I just need a break. So what if you use this as a substitute tonight?”

“Ugh. Fake pussy? I’d rather just, just use my hand.” A glint comes to his eyes, and he leers, “Or _your_ hand. What’dya say?”

You weigh the pros and cons of your hand against the silicone sleeve. Rick’s right; the masturbation tool comes up short. 

“Come here, Rick,” you agree. “Since you’re willing to settle for a handjob, I’m willing to give you one. Thanks for not insisting on me blowing you.”

“That was on the table—that was an option?!” he immediately whines.

You laugh at him, and continue laughing as you jerk him off.


	22. Day 22: NSFW

The tag on the longer, flat box was number 22.

You unwrap it to find a nice quality leather collar and leash.

Rick nods his approval. 

“So . . . ball gag, handcuffs, and-and now collar and leash? I see where they were going with this.”

“Like an introductory set of discipline gear? Or baby steps into SM?”

He winked at you as he picked the collar out of the box. “S-s-something along those lines, sugar.”

His fingers form the collar into a circle. He’s quiet for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. You take the collar from him. It’s just over an inch wide, with supple leather. The stitching is even, the buckle smooth, and the d-ring opposite of it secure. 

Rick comes back out of whatever he’d been thinking. He reaches for it. “I know you don’t like things too tight around your neck, baby. I’m-I’m happy to wear this. You’ve seen the pictures. You know I look _good_ in a collar.”

“You certainly do,” you agree, but don’t relinquish the collar. “But I have an idea I want to try . . .”

When it comes to bedroom suggestions, Rick is more open than anywhere else. He was correct: you have a hard time even wearing a turtleneck shirt, and chokers were your least favorite fashion trend. But he’s willing to give your proposal an attempt, if you are. You’re very specific about it, and he listens intently.

So that night, even though you’d both agreed to be naked when these advent gifts are opened, he pulls his clothes back on. He leaves his belt unbuckled and his fly down, but didn’t put his brief on—like a porn star, he joked.

So dressed, you go to your knees in front of him, naked, holding your own wrists behind your back—the handcuffs had been snapped, after their first and only use—with the collar around your own neck. It’s got a finger of wiggle room, which makes it sit nicely but it’s not too snug. 

The leash was a pain, getting in the way and pulling your hair, so it’s ditched. You didn’t want to be lead around anyway. You wanted only a little pressure, a little tug to keep you focused on his cock, so Rick hooking a finger through the d-ring provides exactly what you’d been thinking. 

You blow him hard and fast, slightly off balance when he gives a little stronger jerk, sometimes held with his cock far in your throat, your nose smashed into the silver-blue hair on his pubic bone, until he yanks you off him, groaning. When you’re not deep-throating him, you look up at him, trying to maintain eye contact as long as possible before swallowing him again.

Rick tries to watch you too, but sometimes he closes his eyes at the sensations you’re wringing from him.

His groin is dripping with spit, your chin is coated. He directs some of your movements and praises you with, “—good-good girl, take my cock, fuck! Yeah, all the way—“ in between moans and gasps. 

When he comes, he does pull the collar too tightly but you focus on the throbbing cock in your mouth and breathing through your nose. 

Finally, he releases his hold on the collar and you sit back on your heels. He puts a hand on your shoulder to help balance himself and when he’s finally able to look at you again you wipe the back of your hand across your mouth indecently, smiling up at him. 

“So-so-so collars are okay?” he rasps out.

“Sometimes,” you agree sweetly.


	23. Day 23: Mature

“Oh, another vibrator!” you exclaim, happily, after opening box 23.

“This one is, is all yours, baby. I don’t think it’ll be something I can use,” Rick says, taking it from your hands and examining it. “It’s a clit vibrator, and a-a g-spot vibrator too.”

“You never read instructions,” you tease. “It’s remote control. So I can wear it, and you can handle all the vibrations, or . . .” You scan the rest of the information in the pamphlet. “. . . it says right here: “he can join in too! Let him slip inside you, just beneath the toy and you’ll both enjoy the jaw-dropping vibrations, pulsations, escalation and rotation!”

You grin at him. “Let’s try it!”

Rick smirks back. “I wanna watch you come from the other side of the bed, knowing I did that to you.”

He guides you to your back, spits on the toy to lube it, and slips it into your pussy and over your clit. Then he leans back against the wall and you fall apart under his control.


	24. Day 24:  Mature

Finally, finally, you made it to box number 24. It was almost midnight, almost Christmas Day, and this month had been a fun little experience. 

Not all the toys worked out, but some you could tell would definitely put to use again. 

Now this final box of the advent calendar. It was wrapped in the best paper, shiny with a subtle baroque pattern that you could only see when the light hit it just right. The bow on it was tied perfectly too. It was a little more fancy than the other wrapped packages you’d extracted from the box previously.

You give it a little shake, and Rick stops you with a hand on your arm.

“You’ll want to be gentle with that one,” he advises. “I mean, it’s not-not br-breakable, but don’t rough it up.”

You give him a questioning look. He raises his eyebrows and looks like the cat that got the cream.

“What is it, Rick?”

He shrugs innocently. “Better open it-better just unwrap it and see.”

With a tiny amount of apprehension, you pop the tape and remove the paper more delicately than you had the other packages. The box inside is plain but sturdy. You find a small seam and a notch for a finger, and open it on a hidden hinge. 

Inside is the oddest looking thing you think you may have seen. One end was a knobby knot, connected by a neck to a circular section with soft little fingers in the center on one side, and a flaccid tube on the other. 

“It’s a Plumbus,” Rick announces, in your silence. Carefully he removed it from its fitted slot in the box. He holds it with both hands as he looks up at you, with an impish glint in his eyes. “And baby, this is the best toy of them all.”

Like so many times, Rick was right.

_fin!_


End file.
